


The Garbage Chute

by shinelikethunder (tenlittlebullets)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Deepest apologies to Roald Dahl, Filk, Gen, HYDRA Trash Party, Parody, Poetry, We are all Veruca Salt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:19:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2463005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenlittlebullets/pseuds/shinelikethunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's always more layers to the trash. Just when you think you've hit the floor..."<br/>"...a trapdoor opens and you fall down the garbage chute. I feel like there's an Oompa-Loompa song in here somewhere."</p>
<p>A slightly rueful ode to the Hydra Trash Party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Garbage Chute

A fan of dubious repute  
Has just gone down the garbage chute.  
(And since the fatal bit of waste  
Was more-than-usually debased,  
It’s not just her who’s bound for hell:  
She’s dragged her followers down as well.)  
Down goes the fangirl! to the trash!  
And though she should turn back abashed,  
She’s plied with gifts on her descent  
Through torture, sex, and nonconsent.  
But not gifts she’s accustomed to—  
These won’t be quite so fresh and new.  
A chicken thigh, for instance, chewed  
By rats till it's no longer food.  
'Oh my! How thoughtful! What a find!  
How can I thank you! You’re too kind!’  
And then a little further down  
A mass of others can be found:  
Two fingers' worth of milk gone noxious,  
A throne of empty fruit-pie boxes,  
A smack syringe, a rusty spoon,  
A stew left in the fridge last June,  
A lambskin condom used and torn,  
Two baby shoes as-yet unworn,  
A pizza crust, a month-old prawn,  
A shirt a tomcat pissed upon,  
And lots of other things as well,  
Each with a rather horrid smell.  
These are our fangirl’s dumpster gifts  
That she’ll receive while she’s adrift  
And may her sad trash hobo haul  
Serve as a warning to us all.  
But now, my dears, we think you might  
Be wondering—is it really right  
That every single bit of blame  
And all the scolding and the shame  
Should fall upon our dumpster kitten  
For things that someone else has written?  
For though she’s rotten, dreadfully so,  
Trash heaps don’t fill themselves, you know.  
Who ruined her, then? Who turned her on  
With mag-clamp cuffs and stun batons?  
Who gave her slaps and mindwipe chairs  
And Hydra goons with lecherous stares?  
Alas! You’ll have to look up high  
To find out where these sinners lie.  
The crooks (and this is sad to know)  
Are good old ANTHONY and JOE.  
And so we’re glad that they created  
A film made to be desecrated.


End file.
